Guest Post | Surfacing Again: Ginger biscuit recipe by A.L. Lester

Guest-Post

The lovely A.L. Lester is with us today, and they’ll share a little something from their new release, Surfacing Again, as well as a recipe. Welcome, Ally!

Thank you so much for having me here today to visit, Ofelia! I am popping in to tell everyone that I have a new short story out for the holidays.

Surfacing Again is part of my contemporary Celtic myth collection and is a short sapphic Christmas story. Like the others in the collection it’s based on an old British tale that has some connection to creatures; and this time I’ve chosen St Cuthbert and the legend about otters coming and drying him after he’d been standing in the sea praying. It’s a very low heat story with more scenes with otters than actual kissing; and it turned out to be a cozy meet-cute, which isn’t my usual style at all!

Rowan, the woman Melinda meets as she’s stranded on the island of Lindisfarne for Christmas, owns a café and she bakes these delicious ginger biscuits for Lin on Christmas day. They’re a recipe we use at home and have been tried and tested many times here at Lester Towers. I hope you like them!

You need:

  • 350g plain flour plus a little extra for dusting
  • 1 tsp baking soda
  • 2 tsp ground ginger
  • 100g butter
  • 175g soft brown sugar
  • 4 tbsp golden syrup
  • 1 egg

Follow the instructions:

  1. Preheat the oven to 190c/375f.
  2. Sieve the flour, baking soda and ginger into a large bowl.
  3. Add the butter and rub it in with your fingers until the mix is crumbly.
  4. Stir in the sugar.
  5. Break the egg into a cup and add the syrup. Stir it up and then pour it into the bowl.
  6. Stir it all together with a big spoon and then with your hands.
  7. When it’s a proper dough, roll it out on a dusted board to about 5mm thick and cut it into shapes.
  8. Line two baking trays with parchment and arrange the biscuits.
  9. Bake for about 10 minutes.
  10. Take out, leave for a couple of minutes on the baking trays to firm up, then lift them onto a wire rack to cook properly.

Will store for a couple of weeks in an airtight container, but ours barely last a day.

Surfacing Again is the fourth of my Celtic retellings, the first one that features a lesbian couple (and otters!). I really hope you enjoy it. You can find the others on my website. Or read on for an excerpt!

Celtic myths

Surfacing Again

Surfacing again cover

Melinda is staying on Lindisfarne for a Christmas break with her old friend when an unexpected argument leaves her alone for the holiday.

It’s the first Christmas since her mother died and the island’s peace and wild tranquillity bring balm to her wounded heart. Two chance meetings, first with a pair of wary otters and then with cafe-owner Rowan, bring her genuine joy.

Will her tentative relationship with Rowan survive the end of her holiday and the turning of the year?

A short sapphic Christmas story. With otters.

Buy at Amazon USBuy Everywhere Else!

Excerpt from Surfacing Again

Chapter 2: Christmas Eve

“You look like you could do with a hot drink. Your lips are blue,” the small woman wrapped in the huge green apron said. She was sweeping the windswept grey pavement outside the little cafe on the corner in the village as Melinda peered through the window at the menu, wondering whether they were open.

“Are you serving?” she asked.

The woman was about her own age, with a geometric blonde haircut and an impish expression as she looked at Lin over her broom.

“I’m not actually open for another couple of hours,” she said, smiling and leaning the broom against the wall. “But come inside while I set up. You must be frozen. It’s a bitter wind.”

Melinda smiled at her. “Why are you bothering to brush the pavement then?” she asked.

The other woman smiled again. “Habit,” she said. “It’s habit. I like my routines. Come on, come in. I’ve lit the log burner already, so it’s toasty inside.”

There were a couple of sofas set at angles in front of the log burner and a few small tables squeezed in around them. It really was a tiny cafe, probably converted from someone’s front room that had been knocked through into the room behind at some time in the past.

“Here,” her saviour said. “Sit down, take your coat off. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got…well, anything really. Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”

“Tea would be wonderful, actually,” Lin said. “I haven’t had any yet this morning. I got up early to watch the sunrise.” She was determined to make the most of her stay on the island of Lindisfarne, despite the drama of the last couple of days.

She sighed.

The other woman flashed her another grin before she could get too lost in her thoughts. “It was beautiful this morning,” she said. “I’m Rowan,” she said in a friendly fashion, going behind the counter and putting a kettle on.

“I’m Lin,” Melinda said. “Is this your place?” She hunched forward and stretched out her frosty hands to the fire.

“Yes. Me and my girlfriend started it a couple of years ago, but it’s just me now.” She shot Lin a sidelong glance.

Melinda smiled back. “It’s lovely,” she said. “Very cosy.”

“It’s tiny, but it works. I live upstairs.” She nodded toward the back of the cafe where there was a closed door beside the one that led out to the kitchen, presumably leading to some stairs. “We only do drinks and cakes, and soup and sandwiches and breakfast rolls; a very limited menu. But it’s all people need if they’ve come over to the island for the day. No-one wants to waste time with a full sit-down lunch.”

She put a tray with a pot of tea, a jug of milk, and two mugs down on the low table between the sofas, sinking into the one opposite Lin.

Lin nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. It’s quieter at this time of year, though?”

“Yes, very much so. Although it can get busy now for a bit, around Christmas. And people stay in the self-catering properties and guest houses all year round, obviously. If I didn’t need the income to live, I’d say I prefer it when it’s quieter.” She said that with an open smile. “Present company excepted, of course!”

She leaned forward and poured them each a cup of tea. She seemed to have all the time in the world to chat to a random stranger she’d rescued from the freezing morning.

Buy at Amazon USBuy Everywhere Else!

Surfacing again

About A. L. Lester

Ally Lester writes queer, paranormal, historical, romantic suspense and lives in the South West of England with Mr AL, two children, a terrifying cat, three guineapigs, some hens and the duckettes.

She likes permaculture gardening but doesn’t really have time or energy these days. Not musical, doesn’t much like telly, likes to read. Non-binary. Chronically disabled. Has fibromyalgia and tedious fits.

Join my newsletter, for a free copy of the novella An Irregular Arrangement or find me on social media via my link-tree.

Ally

Guest Post | Lion’s Hero by Alexis Woods

Guest-Post

Today, Alexis Woods is here to share an excerpt from her story, Lion’s Hero. Lion’s Hero was first published in 2014 but has now been revised and expanded.

Eights Nights to Fall in Love

Excerpt:

Ari peered past the guard as he made his way to the end of the line. Excitement filled him as he saw the area jammed with bodies, lights flickering, humans singing, and… is that dancing? The humans were pressed so close together, jumping and writhing, waving their arms, Ari wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. On the far side of the room, a huge, pulsating sign caught his attention. Club Haven flashed in colors of purple and green. A club! He’d never been in one though he’d heard plenty of stories from some of the other angels. Finally, a chance to explore this realm like I always wanted.

Excited, he ran his hands down his body—his very human body—taking in his clothing, checking to see if he fit in with these other humans. He wore a black logo shirt that clung to his chest and dark jeans, along with a kick-ass pair of boots on his feet. Interestingly, there was a braided silver ring adorning his left thumb. Sliding his hands over his head and ears, he discovered a short, spiky hairstyle and pierced ears. Fingering the earrings, four on one side and four on the other, Ari mumbled, “Really, my Lord?”

A group of riotous young women rushed past him going in the opposite direction of those standing in line. One of them, a long-haired girl dressed in black and silver, spun and ogled him. A silver bar ran through one eyebrow and a ring through her lip.

“Nice shirt,” she threw his way, before twirling around and running to catch up to her friends.

“Thank you,” Ari replied to her retreating back before he slapped his hands to his face to check for further piercings. “Well, thank you for that, I guess.”

He pulled his shirt away from his body to see what was imprinted on it. Satan’s Thorn, the shirt proclaimed, complete with rampant lion brandishing a wicked-looking stake.

“Funny, my Lord,” Ari muttered with a laugh. An answering chuckle filled Ari’s mind followed by a reminder of Father. “Right. Father. So, my other half… Do I get a hint? It’d be nice to know who I’m looking for.” Instead of the woman he expected, the profile of a man filled his mind: dark hair, the ends curling at the collar of a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up displaying an array of colors on his skin. Club Haven’s neon sign flashed in the background.

Ari gasped and fell against the nearest wall, leaning hard on it for support. He palmed his face as Father’s oration came back to him: He’s a man of God. He finds faith in Me. He’ll be yours… He’s, he, he’ll. Ari breathed deeply, pressing his palm to his heart as he attempted to calm his racing heart.

My other half is a male like me. Shocked, and in awe of this strange turn, Ari slumped.

Father so rarely granted his devoted angels a chance to meet their mate on Earth—his mentor Leo, had been one of the few—but he’d heard through the angelic grapevine that the chosen were always women for the mates of male-presenting angels. Never had a man been chosen as an other half, except when the angel presented more as female.

“Hey, are you alright?” a deep voice asked, coming from Ari’s right.

Ari cautiously spread his fingers to see a white button-down shirt, the top two buttons undone in front of him. A thick gold chain bearing a Star of David sat atop golden skin. He dropped his hands to gaze slightly up at a smooth oval complete with a solid chin, straight nose, and warm brown eyes he immediately wanted to get lost in. Oh, Dear Lord!

I’m right here, Ari. No need to yell.

Those impressive eyes dipped and came closer. Ari jerked his head up, knocking it into the wall. “Ow!” He moaned as he rubbed the sore spot and, with his head down, Ari didn’t realize the newcomer—Your other half, Father kindly supplied—had stepped even closer until his shoes entered Ari’s line view. When the man tried to pull Ari’s hands away, Ari slid to the right, his military reflexes kicking in. The move put distance between him and his other half, and he immediately wanted to zip back into place, but he held still, unsure what the right move should be. His brain was in overdrive. Never had he been in figurative knots, tongue-tied and dizzy.

“Skittish,” the man mumbled, obviously mistaking Ari’s side-step. A woman shrieked and he glanced towards the club’s entrance, just long enough for Ari to see his profile and the bar in the background, confirming that this tall, handsome man was Father’s choice for him.

Blurb:

Lion's HeroEight nights to fall in love.

Ari’s mission: meet the man chosen for him by God. The catch: he only has eight nights to both fall in love and have his chosen fall in love with him—the eight nights of Chanukah.

Gabriel’s test of faith: in reaching out to a young man, he finds himself confronted with the unbelievable. Believe, and the Festival of Lights may herald a miracle leading to a lifetime of love.

http://getbook.at/LionsHero

Connect with Alexis

Look for daily inspiration coupled with coffee? Join me! “All In” with Alexis. https://www.facebook.com/groups/alexiswoods

Join my e-mail list for a free short story: “All In” with Alexis Woods

On Goodreads at: Alexis Woods – Goodreads

On Twitter: @alexiswoods553

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Reach out to me via Email: alexiswoods553@gmail.com

Guest Post | A Handful of Joy by Pat Henshaw

Guest-Post

Today, Pat Henshaw is on a visit. We will have some guests throughout the month, not only on Fridays, to get us in the mood for the holidays. Pat is here to share a little from her story, A Handful of Joy, which was released yesterday. Welcome, Pat!


Writing is a strange occupation.

Most of us, if faced with an honest job description, would probably turn it down. According to WikiHow, this might be an accurate help wanted posting for a fiction writer position:

Do you like to create people who must cope with unusual situations and/or worlds?

You or your preferred publisher, located wherever manuscripts are accepted, seek a contract worker to write stories.
Candidates should have as many years of experience in writing as they can get. The right candidate must have mastery in the language of their choice. Ability to focus for long periods of time is a plus. Being able to entertain with words is preferred, but not required.

This contract position runs from whenever you write your first word through your entire lifetime. Mental work hours are twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Physical work hours vary per day. The salary for this position is whatever sales you make.

You will have no assigned work space, no collaborators unless you choose them, and no mid-morning, lunch, or mid-afternoon breaks unless you schedule them. You will have no constructive feedback or job training unless you seek it out, sometimes with out-of-pocket cost to you.

As an employee you will qualify for no health insurance, dental, vision, or 401k retirement plan, unless you fund these yourself.

If you wish to apply, please send a manuscript to the publisher of your choice or book/Amazon formatter. Please refer to the World Wide Web for additional information if you have questions about the position.

So how many of you are ready to apply?

I took the job.

Consequently, A Handful of Joy, a holiday story, was written. I hope it will make you feel awwwsome when you’re rushed and ready to give up on your relatives and friends because the hustle and bustle is getting to be too much.

Happy holidays!

Peace.
(If you’d like to see the job template I used, go to https://www.wikihow.com/Create-a-Help-Wanted-Ad# )

Blurb:

a handful of joyWhen does never turn into happily ever after in the search for love?

Top accountant of Manzanita Imports in Sacramento, Ted Abbott stopped participating in the love game after he turned thirty quite a few years ago. He’s not tempted by the cute young new hires or the product reps his loyal staff suggest he ask out on a date.

Chicago contractor Matt Patterson is on the verge of giving up too. He’s worked his way up from apprentice carpenter to co-owner of a thriving business. At forty-something, he’s considered a lucky catch for anybody looking for a sugar daddy, which he knows only too well.

The chance of them meeting is nil until Matt’s uncle who lived in Sacramento dies and leaves his estate to his nephew.

After they meet in a dilapidated bar called The Roost, could their paths actually merge and become one?

 

Buy links:

JMS Books :: https://books2read.com/u/3JZzGA

Excerpt:

“Where to next?” I asked Matt after shooting off a text to Josie.

“Somewhere I can think.” He turned and looked at me. “Thank you for the assist back there. It takes me a minute when something unexpected happens. A lot of people call me slow and others call me plain old stupid.”

He shook his head.

“A few of my friends at work call me ‘Give-me-a-minute-Matt’. I gotta step back and assess the situation and go over all my options before I come to a decision.” His mouth turned up in a rueful grimace. “Often people get annoyed when I do it.”

Not me. I was impressed. I liked a guy who took his time and didn’t just blunder ahead like his first thought always had to be the best. Careful thought beat impetuous action as far as I was concerned.

“Okay. All right.” I couldn’t leave it at that, though. “You didn’t hesitate the other night. Seemed pretty quick and direct to me. I was surprised.”

It took him a second, but he smiled a dreamy kind of grin.

“Yeah. The dance. The kiss.” He winked at me. “Not typical, so don’t get used to it.”

While we laughed softly together, I realized the easing of tension after our visit to Calvin was just what we needed.

“So, beef, chicken, fish, or other?” I asked.

“I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere quiet and we can talk without getting interrupted.”

His request wasn’t as impossible as it sounded. I took him to my favorite noontime Sudoku and tea spot, a tiny café I’d dubbed The Café That Time Forgot.

When it was built six generations back, Grumpy Gramp’s had been situated on one of the up-and-coming arterials in and out of San Francisco. Then highways had been built, with freeways not long afterward, followed by Interstate 80. The arterial receded into being a rural road, and instead of blossoming into the first of a flourishing chain of roadside cafés, Grumps, as it was affectionately called around here, became an anomaly, a family owned and operated East Bay institution.

Matt glanced at the sign over the brick building and laughed.

“Why’s he grumpy?”

“The café’s claim to fame is locally sourced ingredients for its soups, salads, sandwiches, and pastries. The story goes that back in the early 1900s when Gramps built the café on the edge of the fields, he always helped the workers pick the produce. One day a farmer brought in a box of greens and vegetables he’d picked the night before, so they weren’t in the best shape in the morning. Grampa reamed him out, calling the guy a ‘limp asparagus’. Everyone in the café at the time thought it was hilarious. They said the place’s name should be changed. Gramma wasn’t amused but said from now on her café would be called Grumpy Grampa, not Limp Asparagus. The name stuck.”

Matt was full-out belly laughing.

“Oh, God. The image. Limp asparagus.”

“Yeah, I know. Not a place where any self-respecting man would want to eat. Ever.”

Bio:

Pat Henshaw, born and raised in Nebraska, has lived on the U S’s three coasts, in Texas, Virginia, and now California. Before she retired, she held a number of jobs, including theatrical costumer, newspaper features reporter and movie reviewer, librarian, junior college English instructor, and publicist. She also loves to travel and has visited Canada, Mexico, Europe, Egypt, and Central America as well as almost all fifty US states.

Now retired, she enjoys reading and writing as well as visiting her older daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren on the East Coast and playing havoc with her younger daughter’s life in NorCal. She thanks you for reading her books and wants you to remember that every day is a good day for romance.

For more information, please visit http://www.pathenshaw.com .

Follow Pat at:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pat.henshaw.10/

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